


Why should I care?

by Markiplier_Egos



Category: Markiplier Egos, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A very dysfunctional family, Drinking, Medical issues, Misunderstandings, Team as Family, being bad at sharing emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markiplier_Egos/pseuds/Markiplier_Egos
Summary: Bim's only been alive for a few months, but he's never been late for a meeting, he's never missed breakfast or Studio time before. So where is the little ray of sunshine now?





	Why should I care?

“Where is he?” Dark growled glancing around the room. The monthly meeting was meant to start nearly half an hour ago, but Dark knew that was too much to ask for. The egos were poor at stopping their own projects for anything, but even Wilford and the Author had pulled themselves into the conference room by now.

Wilford glanced up from where he was cleaning his nails with his knife and gave a shrug, “Don’t give me that look, Darkie. He didn’t come to the studio this morning,”

“He wasn’t at breakfast either,” Doc piped in, looking over his clipboard, “Which is odd since he usually tries to help cook,”

Author snorted and continued “Don’t look at me I kick the little sunshine ray out of my cabin every time he shows up,”

“Security cameras show he’s in his room,” Google reported, glancing up at Dark, “Would you like me to go retrieve him for you?”

“No need, bluebell,” Wilford cut in before Dark could answer him as a puff of pink smoke engulfed the empty chair before fading revealing a figure they almost didn’t recognize.

“Bim?” Wilford asked mustache twitching. The ego squinted up at him, glasses missing. Gone was his suit jacket and his dress shirt was unbuttoned revealing his undershirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair hung limp in a tangled mess around his face.

“What?” He slurred, rubbing his eye against the bright fluorescent bulbs “Need me to clean up another body again Warfstache? Or did you just run out of coffee again?”

“Look around Trimmer,” Dark’s voice made Bim jump magic crackling around him, turning the walls fuschia.

“Wooo….” he said, eyes widening almost comical as he saw all of them, “Wasn’t expecting the whole group to be here? Did we have a meeting or something?”

“What’s gotten into you?” The author asked with a chuckle, “You’re not acting like your usual sunshine and rainbow self.” Bim snorted.

“I decided if none of you guys give a fuck about me,” As he raised the amber bottle they had missed in his hand in a salute, they all stiffened eyes going wide, “I’m just gonna numb the pain for a while and forget I exist,”

“Is that alcohol?” Dr. Iplier snapped, jumping to his feet as color drained from his face. Bim raised an eyebrow before taking a deep swig.

“Yuppers!” He giggled slightly, “It’s good whiskey. I could summon you a bottle if you want,”

“Bim!” The doctor cried again, “Mark is missing a key enzyme in the breakdown of alcohol, That means all of us share his allergy. We could die from consuming alcohol, yourself included!”

They all expected him to drop the bottle. They all expected him to panic and rush the Doctor pleading to be saved. They all expected for him to snap back to the sweet innocent person they had interacted with in the last month.

They did not expect for him to laugh bitterly and chug the rest of the bottle down.

“Bim!” Wilford yelped eyes wide, “What are you doing??”

“Oh shut it, you cotton candy dick,” Bim’s words were getting more slurred as Wilford’s jaw snapped shut in shock, “Don’t act like you’d actually care about me dying. Just let me return to oblivion so I can be out of your guys’ hair.”

Google was on his feet, “You’ve stopped making sense Trimmer,”

Bim rolled his eyes summoning another bottle with a wave of his hand, “Oh come on!” He whined, unfocused gaze sweeping over all of them, “You can’t honestly think I’m so dense I didn’t notice that none of you like me. I’m not wanted, unneeded, worthless to this group. So why stick around?” Wilford made to grab the bottle out of his hand only for him to dodge out of the way sharply.

“Bim, you’re delusional,” Dark said, “Just put down the bottle and go to the clinic before you keel over,”

“Not going to be your puppet, Mr. Demon Emo,” Bim said, dodging as Wilford once again lunged at him“And I’m not delusional. You’ve all made it pretty clear that I’m not welcome here so why don’t you just let me sink to the bottom of this bottle,”

Wilford growled, magic snapping out at the game show host only for it to be deflected by a bright purple forcefield.

“What on earth are you talking about, Chap?”

Bim stopped laughing, face falling into a scowl, “You can’t be serious Warfstache?”

He glanced around at the group, eyes hard as he took in their features, “Wow maybe it’s just you guys that are dense as bricks,”

“Explain Trimmer,”  Dark finally barked, as the other ego hummed to himself, sipping the poison in his hands.

“Have any of you guys been to the studio for more than five seconds?” He asked, “Like actually paid attention to how Wilford treats me there?”

They all turn to Wilford to who simply furrowed his brows. Bim growled, pacing around the room as he began his rant.

“He works me like an intern, no worse like a dog. I’m expected to do everything he tells me to, get coffee, clean up the dead bodies from when he accidentally shoots another contestant or interviewee, clean up and set up all of the segments, do most of the editing, and whatever else he doesn’t feel like doing,” He anger was making him slur more as he glared from behind his bangs at Wilford, “You do realize I was supposed to take over the game shows right? That was the sole reason I was created. I’m a game show host, meant to perform, and yet you haven’t let me see the front of a camera since I came to life because you’re so far up your own ass. How would you like it if you were told you couldn’t report but had to work 16 hour days anyway?”

“Wilford….” Dark said, the unasked question hanging in the air heavily. The man in question twirled a nervous finger through his mustache.

“You never complained before,” He offered weakly making Bim roll his eyes.

“Yes let me just complain to the psychopath that I’ve seen routinely shoot people and forget that stabbing can do bodily harm that I think he’s an egotistical moron that has his head so far up his ass he could lick the inside of his ribcage. I’m sure that would go over well,” He lifted the bottle to his lips again, dodging once more as Doc tried to snatch the bottle out of his hands, “I’ll go out on my own terms before I allow you to kill me.” Wilford huffed, eyes looking slightly glassy as he started firing off magic randomly at Bim. Bim didn’t even look at him as he dodged the spells way too accurately for his level of intoxication. He instead started to giggle and firing wildly with his own magic.    

“Calm down Sunshine,” Author snapped, joining in the attempt to take the bottle away from the younger man, only for Bim to dive under his arm and turn his hair a vibrant red.

“Oh and the rest of you! God forbid I try and correct any of you, or even attempt to be helpful,” Bim laughed swaying slightly as he took another swig of liquor before continuing dodging “I mean not like you can make mistakes or anything.”

“Such as?” The Author asked, eyes following him with a hint of disbelief.

“Oh you’re a prime example,” Bim’s voiced grew sickly sweet as he pointed a finger at Author, changing his flannel into a pale pink flowery dress, “I mean there was no way I could have known the exact reason the scene where your main character finds the decomposing girl wasn’t working. Silly me for thinking I could help and not get a metal bat swung at my face!”

The older man cut his protest to the clothing change off, eyes widening,“You knew what was wrong?”

Bim was practically dancing around the room as Wilford gave up magic to simply try and tackle the host, “Of course I did, I love plants! I mean lovely imagery with the Lupines growing out of her chest, making her look impaled, only problem? You were in a shadowy forest with heavy foliage, Lupines need more sun then that setting should have provided. If you just changed the setting of the scene or switched to Blue Delphiniums, similar height, color, and growing pattern but Blue Delphiniums are great for shadowy areas, then it would have worked perfectly!”

The Author instantly dived for his papers, flipping through them muttering to himself in disbelief, how had he looked over something like that?

Bim ignored him, instead of swinging the bottle to point at Google as he leaped onto the table with ease he should not possess, “And you! I mean I may not be a supercomputer but I do know my way around a tv set, and I know how to fix most things in there. If you’d listen to me, you’d realized that camera you were trying to fix was an EFP Camera not quite the same as the Studio cameras and thus need different fixes when broken about two hours before you actually did.”

The android raised an eyebrow looking slightly taken aback, “That was what you were trying to say amidst your stuttering?”

“Excuse me for stuttering when Wilford was threatening me with fucking knife tickles as a robot looks like he wants nothing more than to rip out my spleen is glaring at me,”

Bi mumbled, giving a half smirk as he leaped over Wilford as the reporter dived for his feet. He stopped in front of the doctor.

“Oh and Don’t get me started on you, little mister pretend-to-be-nice but I mess up once and suddenly I might as well have killed your mother,” He whirled around to face the head of the table, “And then emo bitch over here-” A sudden red blur appeared knocking him over with a loud thump. The others blinked and saw King sitting on Bim’s stomach the bottle clutched in his hands.

“Bim?” He squeaked out, rubbing peanut butter on the label as he read it, “Why were you drinking? We can’t drink. Are you okay? Why hasn’t Doc taken you to the clinic? Doc, why didn’t you take him to the clinic?”

“Oh hiya, peanut butter face?” Bim said, smiling lightly, head rolling oddly around, “Why are you getting so fuzzy?”

“Bim!” King yelled as the ego under him went limp, head slamming into the table with a crack. He was off of him in a second, eyes flashing frantically between the others around him.

“What are you waiting for?” King snapped, an odd authority in his voice. Wilford snapped out of it first. With a snap of his fingers, Bim and the Doctor vanished from the room, no doubt reappearing in the clinic two floors below. The room was filled with an uneasy silence.

Meekly King asked, “What happened here?”

Dark let out a low chuckle, aura spasming behind him, “Wouldn’t we like to know,”

* * *

Bim hadn’t even fully regained consciousness when his head exploded in pain. White hot pokers stabbed at his brain as he struggled to either force himself into oblivion again or curl into a ball. Becoming a ball won out as he found himself with his head between his knees, taking deep breaths to stop himself from throwing up. Cool soft hands touched his face and made the pain fade down to a sharp ache. He glanced up to see  Doctor Iplier stared down at him with a worried frown.

“You doing alright now, Bim?”

He gazed up at him confused, “What happened Doc?”

The older ego looked at him nervously, “You don’t remember anything?” Bim thought for a second before blushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I- uh may have gotten a bit intoxicated last night,” He laughed not meeting the doctor’s eyes, “Sorry about that doc, I’ll get out of your hair.” He goes to stand, ignoring the protests from the Doctor only to freeze as a hard hand stiffens slightly around his wrist. He glances over only to see it connected to a slumped Google next to him, the blinking G on the android’s chest showing he was charging and ‘asleep’. Bim stared at him, jaw slack, confusion rolling off of him in waves. Google couldn’t stand him, right? So why was he slumbering next to him in an uncomfortable position, holding on to him no less?

“As I was trying to say,” The Doc broke Bim’s train of thought, “A lot more happened then you simply drinking…”

Bim sat in stun silence as the Doctor retold the events that he could not recall. Him being summoned to the meeting wasted, the allergy they all shared, him chugging the whiskey he had summoned after he learned the consequences, the bitter and unrestrained comments he had thrown around the room in his despair and pain, him dodging and weaving unafraid of the repercussions as he told each and every member in the room what he really thought, until King tackled him concerned for what was happening.

“After that, you passed out and have remained unconscious for the last 68 hours,” Doctor wrapped up, looking over Bim’s report, “You suffered a minor stroke, but since you’re not human you shouldn’t face any lasting damage, though you’ll probably feel drained and moderate aches due to your body and magic fighting the toxic buildup that forms when we try and drink alcohol, you should be back to feeling normal by the end of the week,”

BIm stared at him, biting his lip, “Doc, I’m-”

“If you’re about to say you’re sorry, then don’t,” The doctor sighed making Bim’s mouth snap shut, “Bim, you’re allowed to feel negatively about us, especially after everything that’s happened over the last month,”

Bim simply looked down at his lap, before tracing his eyes back along the metal arm attached to him to the sleeping android. A light beeping sounded and suddenly Google’s eyes started fluttering open.

“Trimmer,” He said sitting up slowly, “You’re awake,”

He blinked in confusion at the not so blank look on Google’s face, he looked almost… relieved?

“Yeah,” He reassured the bot, “I woke up a few minutes ago, Doc was just explaining what happened,”

“Good, then I’ll go retrieve the others and inform them you are conscious,” He replied, face falling back into the blank scowl he normally wore before he started out of the room, only to stop and glare over his shoulder at Bim, “Don’t you do something that stupid ever again, Trimmer,” and with that he was out of the room. Doc snorted at his bewildered facial expression.

“We may not be very good at showing our emotions, Bim,” the soft tone of the doctor was heavy and almost uncharacteristic of what Bim knew of the man, “but Dark, Google, Author, King, and Wilford all pestered me about when you would wake up and if you’d be alright,”

“But I thought,” Bim let his thought trail off.

“Dark and Google view emotion as weakness, I overwork myself too much for anyone’s liking, Author is too anxious about his writing to remember real people sometimes, and Wilford is more than a little mentally unbalanced,” The doc said heading for the door himself, “and yet I had to kick all of them out of the room the first night you were in here. They even ended up setting up shifts so you weren’t alone once while in here. The only reason Google was asleep when you woke up was that I hit the manual shut down on the back of his neck that makes him shut down and recharge until he reaches eighty percent. The fact he slept for seven hours meant he was practically running on fumes since you got here,”

With that thought, the Doctor told him he needed to check on other things, but would be back when the other five showed up to visit. As he left Bim felt the first true smile he had since his creation crawl onto his lips.


End file.
